


Effusive

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [234]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, hospital fic, yet another coat lost to the Thames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 10:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7529764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>effusive: adjective: i-ˈfyü-siv, e-, -ziv: marked by the expression of great or excessive emotion or enthusiasm</p>
<p>from Merriam-Webster:</p>
<p>"We've used "effusive" in English to describe excessive outpourings since the 17th century. In the 1800s, geologists adopted the specific sense related to flowing lava-or to hardened rock formed from flowing lava. "Effusive" can be traced to the Latin verb effundere ("to pour out"), which itself comes from "fundere" ("to pour") plus a modification of the prefix ex- ("out"). Our verb "effuse" has the same Latin ancestors. A person effuses when he or she speaks effusively. Liquids can effuse as well (as in "water effusing from a pipe")."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Effusive

Sherlock blinked awake, slowly coming to, trying to remember what had happened.

"Sherlock?" John smiled at him, and took his one hand that could move in both of his smaller ones, and held it tightly. "You have no idea how happy I am to see your eyes open."

How long had it been? He could tell from John's face, hadn't shaved in three, no, four days, maybe longer? Too much terrible coffee, hadn't been home - "How long, John?" He croaked, and immediately wished he hadn't. John put his hand down gently and reached for the cup of ice chips.

"Shhh, here, ice." John put the ice chip to his lips and Sherlock felt John's finger tremble against them. "Sorry." He pulled his hand away, but Sherlock shook his head, and reached out for his hand. 

"How long, John?" Sherlock watched John's face change.

"A week now."

"I don't rem-"

"You went for another swim in the Thames, damn it. I was working a late shift. I didn't get your messages until they had brought you here. I almost punched Greg, Donovan had to hold me back. You didn't wait, you fool." He whispered as he stroked Sherlock's hand. "You can't do that to me again. I can't lose you again..."

Sherlock's eyes shot open. "John?" They were never effusive with one another, even after he came back, John kept a closer eye on him, hovered a bit, but after that first explosion of angry, "neverdothattomeagainyouarse" that led to a one time embarrassing nearly strangling embrace, he had thought they were back to 'normal'; whatever that had meant in the past. Something had changed in seven days. He wasn't sure what, exactly.

"I - you had stopped breathing by the time they pulled you out; Donovan, of all people, gave you CPR, she got there first - now I have to be nice to her for the rest of our natural lives. They were afraid you had gone too long without oxygen, and when you didn't wake up..."

"Why, why are you crying, John?" Sherlock touched John's cheek. "I don't understand."

"I'm shite at this," John pinched his nose and sighed, before shaking his head and finally looking into Sherlock's confused, still hazy eyes. "I thought that I had lost the chance to tell you - "

"Tell me...?"

"That I love you."

"That you love me."

John nodded and looked away. "Have for a long time."

"Why?"

"Why? Why do I love you?"

"I'm rude, arrogant, I take your belongings, invade your privacy on a regular basis -"

"You are brilliant, hilarious, kinder to me in your own way than anyone ever has been before, you have saved me from myself in so many ways I can't even begin to tell you, above all, you get me, and goddamn it, you are the most gorgeous person I know."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously and wondered aloud, "Sleep deprivation? Have they drugged you? No....no, you actually believe what you are saying...oh...god I just said that out loud. John, you have to know - yes? You don't. Damn. I thought. You - you are - no - it doesn't matter - what does your version of love entail, exactly?"

"I don't know, never loved anyone before."

"But - "

"I've gone on dates, and 'slept' with people, but I've never lived with anyone before, outside of bunking with my mates during my tours; never by choice, never because I couldn't imagine living without someone."

"So...you mean..."

"Yes..."

"You want - "

"everything."

"With -"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yes, of course I do. But, right now, I have to let them know you are awake, I will be right back, yeah?"

"Can you, uhm, kiss me first?" Sherlock asked, barely loud enough to be heard over the machines.

John nodded and bent over him, and kissed Sherlock's dry lips sweetly. "I'll be right back, yeah?"

Sherlock blinked at him, but managed to nod back, "I'm not going anywhere."

"I love you. Breathe, yeah? You'll just have to get used to me saying it, til then, you have to remember to breathe."

"I love you, too."

*

*

*

*

"John? Breathe for me."

"Sorry. Be back in a minute."


End file.
